Quiet Forever
by lealila
Summary: When Anakin kinda sorta doesn't pick a side, the whole galaxy kinda sorta feels the consequences. AU.
1. Introducing

_**disclaimer: **__**little lion man, revenge of the sith, harry potter, and love actually do not belong to me**_

_**(revised chpt.)**_

_Quiet Forever_

_when anakin kinda sorta doesn't pick a side, the whole galaxy kinda sorta feels the consequences. _

(That night—either in the cockpit or in your bed, you're not too sure: you both are connected—you dream of what could be. A burning temple and flowers. There's weeping and screaming in the background. The dream switches, and now the flowers are dancing, and there's laughter and everything is happy, now. The dreams keep switching back and forth, back and forth, _backandforth_—

You—the one in Utapau, or in the one in Coruscant, because you'll never stop the connection now—never wake up.)

* * *

The world is loud, and they keep screaming, _(words,words!) _but Anakin can't understand exactly what is being said. He tries to look for an escape, because he doesn't know how to answer. Maybe, he doesn't want to answer….

_(i can save her.)_

_(i need your help, anakin.)_

_(everything dies. eventually, even the stars burn out.)_

They keep asking for you to choose. And then Anakin thinks—

_I'm the chosen one. I'm supposed to balance the Force, not pick a side. _

And so you balance. Laugh.

And walk out the door.

* * *

(At least. You—both of you, because you both are one singular person—don't think you wake up.

Because, that time that _could_ have been when you woke up—it's not much different from your dream. There's burning and screaming and dancing and weeping and laughing and flowers. The stars are shining and your battling your way through _something—_

_wake up, little one. _

_wake up._

_everything's fine, now._

_wake up._

You wake up.

And smile.

And you, the Sons of Suns, are now alive.)

* * *

This story is about…love and loss. Brotherhood and betrayal. Courage and sacrifice. Where the what-could-have-been's and should-never-be's will come to life. Where grace is wasted, and boldness stands along among the wreck. People will die. Some will fall. And a new terror will rise, in the place of another. But stars will rise too. There will be a savior, who should have been lost. And there will be hope. Because love means never having to say you're sorry. Because the only thing that one needs to do is turn on the light.

_love is more than a candle._

_love can ignite the stars._

—_revenge of the sith novelization,_

_matthew stover_


	2. Jedi

_**(revised chpt.)**_

Obi-Wan wakes in water. He struggles to put his re-breather on, but finds that it's already on. Odd. Trying to look where he can get out, he slips through the water until he sees sunlight, and swims up, desperately trying to regain his senses. Because, he _swears_ that his own men shot him down. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would they shoot him down? Is this a dream, like that one right before—

Focus on the here now. Use the Force. Think. (No, this is not a dream.)

Blinking, gasping, he breaks the surface, staring up at one of the sink-holes that make Utapau. He pauses, and listens. He hears rumbling, and the ground is shaking. No doubt, the clones are searching for him to see if he's dead or not.

Betrayal stabs him, but he shoves it aside. Now is not the time to dwell on it.

Obi-Wan makes his way out of the water, and starts planning on how he's going to get out of this planet.

* * *

Anakin deflects every bolt coming at him, desperately trying to protect the seven younglings under his charge after he found them. But it's _hard_. He can feel every death of his comrades. He can feel the betrayal that _his clones_ _(and they are his clones—after having the 501st under his charge for three and a half years, it's easy to recognize their symbols, their personalities, how they shoot)_ are firing at him, not caring that they once served for him loyally. He can feel the echo of confusion. He can feel the knowledge that…_this_ is what he saw those two nights ago, and he could've done something to prevent it.

They're at the hanger, now—there's a speeder, big enough to fit them all. Ushering the younglings back into a slightly hidden corner, he kneels. "See that speeder over there? The one with the red stripes?" They nod. "Okay. Now. I want you all to stay really close, but get in as fast as you can. I will protect you as best as I can, but I may not make it." Some gasp, but Anakin ignores it. "If I don't, I want to take off, and head straight to the Senate apartments. Look for Senator Amidala, or Organa. They will help you. Understand?" They nod. They all know who the two Senators are—after all, every Jedi knows Jedi allies.

Anakin offers an encouraging smile. "On three. One. Two." He stands, and uses the Force to check for clones: there are none.

The younglings stand too, waiting for his signal, anxious.

Anakin sends s brief prayer to the Force and his childhood gods of the Mli.

"Three."

* * *

Aayla falls, and the world watches, it's breath silent. The planet tries to sustain her, but it's hard with the clones still shooting. So the planet shoots back. Felucians pour out from the fauna, and raid the AT-TE. The clones scream, and fall silent.

The world watches as Barriss Offee slowly steps from the background, dead clones at her feet.

"Is she okay?"

Felucia rumbles.

* * *

Siri walks along the carnage. Clone bodies and droid parts lay scattered around.

_And I should be there, too_ she thinks. _Dead and broken on Kliu. _

She has to get off. There are still clones looking for her. And the Sepratists haven't given up either, she suspects. Siri pauses and breathes, slipping into the Force.

The hanger isn't too far away. And there has to be other Jedi that survived. Siri is not the only one left. She isn't she isn't she _isn't._

* * *

Watching the Jedi Temple burn, Padmé has the urge to go and look and help the survivors, and the urge to burst into sobs. If she didn't have the child inside her, she probably would help the survivors. She does cry, however, but Padmé doesn't once make it vocal. She will be strong. She will she will she _will_. Anakin will be home any second. He _will_.

See-Threepio shuffles closer. "Mistress Padmé! Mistress Padmé! Oh, what is happening! The Jedi Temple—"

"Padmé."

She turns, immediately grinning, hand going to her mouth. Anakin stands in the doorway with seven younglings at his legs. "We need your help."

The grin disappears. "Threepio—go get us something to eat." She kneels, offering her hand. "Let's get you something to eat, yes? Brave souls deserve a reward." The younglings smile and come forward, not even glancing outside the window to their burning home.

"Thank you, Ma'am," a Togruta says.

"Please. Call me Padmé." They nod in unison. She leads them into the kitchen, casting a glance back at Anakin. He stands where she was standing just moments ago, staring at the Temple. She almost goes to him, but the younglings are a more pressing matter at the moment. And besides, they don't quite know what's happening, and Padmé sees no reason to change that now.


	3. Jedi II

**_(revised chpt.)_**

Hours later, seven younglings are sleeping on the floor, oblivious to the world around them. Anakin has barely moved, only from standing to sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. This isn't Anakin. Her Anakin—Anakin Skywalker doesn't just…desist. Deftly, Padmé moves up to him, drawing him close. He obviously isn't going to rejuvenate himself without help, and frankly, they need to leave. Now. Padmé can't really do this all on her own, even if she would like to believe otherwise.

"_Anakin…."_

He knows. Padmé knows that he does. But Anakin doesn't move, and Padmé doesn't have the heart to push him away. For now, she'll let him rest.

* * *

After a few moments, Barriss gently shakes her friend. They need to leave. Now. And the wound needs some healing, and Barriss needs Aayla awake for that. "Master Secura. Aayla. Wake up."

She complies, groaning. Tries to sit up on her own, but crumples back to the waiting arms of her friend. "The planet saved you. Sort of. I don't understand how, though, exactly. The natives and planets just—surged. The planet saved you," she repeats.

Aayla glances at her chest, and all the burned skin and tissue. "Gods."

"Here." Barriss slips into the Force, and Aayla follows. Barriss guides her into healing the wound, even though it'll still need bacta treatment. Gasping, they hover at the edge of the Force.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They abeyance.

"We can't stay here forever." Barriss gestures at Aayla's wound. "The other clones will be looking for us, too."

"There might be other Jedi still alive."

"Let's find a ship before anything."

Aayla nods, a faraway look in her eyes. "Clandestine." Barriss understands, but doesn't say anything. Just helps her friend to her feet, and guides them back to their—their former camp. The clones' camp.

* * *

Obi-Wan finds Grievous' starship untouched. Dashing forward, he leaps in, glances at the controls. Finding the ignition, the controls, he steers the ship out of the sinkhole, and screaming through the gravity well, making it pop. Pausing just long enough to set co-ordinates, he makes hyperspace before the _Vigilance_ can aim their turrets.

Pulling out of hyperspace before the jump can be made—_(why don't _we_ have this?)_—he plots a different course. Repeating this several times, Obi-Wan stops in…well, in the middle of somewhere.

Waiting for the nav system to recalculate itself, he pushes in codes into the comm system. And receives the Jedi re-call signal.

Obi-Wan abeyances.

* * *

Siri doesn't believe it. The re-call signal? Now?

(That nagging feeling that her clones turning on her wasn't a freak incident, increases.)

Her ships drifts in space. Siri punches the audio and tries to prove that she's not alone. "Emergency Code Nine-Thirteen." _breathbreathbreath _"Emergency Code Nine-Thirteen. This is Siri Tachi. Please respond. This is Siri Tachi." She waits. And gets a response.

"_Siri?"_

"Obi-Wan?"

"_Gods. Are you alright?"_

_(dead and broken and kliu.)_

"I'm fine." There's a long pause. "Did your clones turn on you?"

"_Yes. …I—I'm glad your fine. Where are you?"_

"Kiros system." Siri half smiles. "I suppose you think that we should meet?"

She can hear the almost smile in his words. _"How did you know?"_ There's a slight pause. _"How does Coruscant sound?"_

* * *

With Anakin asleep on the couch, and the younglings still asleep, Padmé makes preparations for her absence. Anakin has already contacted Master Yoda, and they have agreed on a meeting place. Padmé almost wishes she could stay—but she won't put her unborn child in danger. Not even for the sake of the galaxy.

There's a sudden knock at the door, and Padmé freezes.

"Threepio, fold the clothes."

"Of course, Mistress Padmé."

Stepping out of her room, she smiles down at the children's faces who have startled awake. "No need to worry." Anakin has jolted awake along with them, and stares at the door.

"…_Obi-Wan…__"_

Padmé quickens to the door. And there stands Obi-Wan with a woman beside him.

He smiles. "Padmé."

Padmé's tempted to hug him, but restrains herself: she doubts he'll appreciate such an action. "Please. Come in. I'm glad you're alright." They deftly step inside. Anakin has gotten off the couch, and maneuvered to his former master. And apparently, he has no qualms with hugging his master, because he doesn't even ask. Of course, considering those two are practically best friends, Padmé assumes that Anakin has the right. And even the trust. The woman steps to the side and Padmé along with her. "What's your name?"

The woman holds out her hand, and turns her head. Blonde hair swishes, and frames her face. . "I'm Siri Tachi, a friend of Obi-Wan's. We met up while escaping. He suggested that we meet in Coruscant and come here. To your apartment, that is. Apparently, you two are friends."

Padmé takes Siri's hand. "That we are. But only—"


	4. Assasination Attempt

_**bee'wu is pronounced: **_**bay-woo**

**_(revised chpt.)_**

Obi-Wan and Anakin react first with Siri milliseconds behind, pushing Padmé to the ground. The Jedi jump in front of the younglings—

Milliseconds too late. Four are dead.

Padmé doesn't have time to mourn.

She pulls the three remaining children forward, and ushers them to the back of the apartment. "Go!" She shoots two clones down, and rushes after them because someone needs to protect them. The younglings—a human, a togruta, and a twi'lek—Mara Jade, Ahsoka Tano, and Bee'wu _("i'm a person and my name is anakin!" padmé always remembers names now)_—spin into the bedroom. Padmé locks the door behind them to prolong—should they come—the clones entrance. She breathes, and looks down at the children, and pretends to smile. "Don't panic. Just stay back, and if there's trouble, stick together and look for a weapon."

* * *

Obi-Wan pushes back shock and rage that comes with the clone's intrusion and the murder of the four younglings. Because this is a battle zone, now, and there is only survival and protecting his comrades and the Senator and the younglings.

There are twenty—_twenty!—_clones and in just over three minutes, every last one of them is dead.

"_Bastards._ How dare they?"

Obi-Wan glances at Anakin and sees the snarl on his face. Likewise, Siri looks furious.

Obi-Wan kneels next to the body of a Zabrak. "Is anyone injured? Where's Padmé and the younglings?" (He'd have said their names, but frankly, he's never bet them before.)

Anakin moves blankly. "I'll get them."

Siri kneels next to Obi-Wan. "We have to burn the bodies like a Jedi. It's what they deserve."

A nod. "But where? We can't exactly burn the whole building down; there are some senators who deserve to live."

She blinks. "That's not like you. Even if they _are _senators." A weak joke, and neither laugh.

A shrug. Anakin, Padmé, and the children return before anything further can be said. Then suddenly there are four strangled sobs that no one can keep in anymore, and the whole room bursts. Obi-Wan and the human girl slowly back away and cling to each other because they don't know yet how to cry.

(Later, they'll learn. After everyone has finally left the planet, and sleeps on the Tantive IV, and it's just Mara and Obi-Wan awake. But for now, it's enough to introduce themselves and just tell stories about what used to be.)

* * *

Palpatine sits back and lets Anakin make his decision. Half because he has Windu to deal with. And half; he suspects that the boy has some issues to resolve, and will soon be back.

(But Sidious, now fully rid of the Chancellor-disguise, can hardly say he's surprised when it's been twenty-five hours, and Darth Vader has yet to turn up.

Sidious is a flexible man.)

Sidious sends out Order 66 mostly because he has no patience, and it's part of way to build his story that the Jedi are—_were—_traitors to the Republic.

It's a risk, to be sure. He has no sure way of knowing if the senators and citizens will support him. Though, seeing that the majority has supported him throughout the war, and the citizens have slowly disdained the Jedi…well. It won't be hard with the right evidence; the right words.

_**xxx**_

When Commander Kit doesn't report after an hour of being dispatched, Sidious knows that the assassination attempt has probably failed. After another hour of silence among the reporters, Sidious figures that the assignation attempt has _definitely _failed.

Sidious turns to Mas Amedda. "Call for an emergency senate meeting."

"Milord."


	5. First Galactic Empire

**_(revised chpt.)_**

"These Jedi murderers left me scared, deformed, but they could not scar my _integrity_! They could not deform my _resolve_! The remaining traitors will be _hunted down_, rooted out wherever they may hide like the _cowards_ they are! They will be brought to _justice, dead or alive_! Anyone who sides with them will be treated with the same fate! We will strike back! We will destroy the destroyers! Death to the ones who dare _betray democracy_!"

Padmé slips into Bail Organa's senate pod. She wanted to leave ages ago, but then this came up, and Anakin told her to "Go, it's fine. We'll take care of everything." They want a private ceremony, no doubt. She won't complain. Padmé respects that. And besides, she needs Bail's help.

(_she's curious too. no one will ever know, but she needs to hear what palpatine is going to say.)_

"It's a lie—you know that, right?"

Bail glances up at her. "He's been presenting evidence all afternoon," he says flatly. "Not just the assassination attempt. The Jedi were plotting to overthrow the Senate."

"It's a lie," she repeats.

"Oh, I've no doubt. It doesn't make any sense for the Jedi to do such a thing." He turns back to the center podium. "But Palpatine makes it sound like truth."

In the center of the Grand Senate Arena, leaning on the edge as if getting strength from the seal plated against the pod itself, Palpatine speaks. "This has been the most trying of times, but we have passed the test. The war is _over_!"

The galaxy roars.

"The Sepratists have been utterly defeated; the Republic _will stand_ united! _United _and _free_!"

The Senate roars

"The Jedi rebellion was our final test—it was the last gasp of the forces of the shadows and night! Now we have left the shadows behind us forever, and a new day has _arrived_! The horizon has reached the Republic!"

The Senate roars.

Padmé murmurs. "Here it comes."

"Here what comes?"

She's not sure entirely—only that it's going to be a salient. "You'll see." She's heard these kind of speeches before.

Palpatine looks almost like a child in a sweets store. "Never again will we be divided! Never again will sector turn against sector, or planet to planet; brother _to_ sister! We are one nation, _indivisible_!"

The Senate roars.

"To ensure that this stays true, _we will act together_—a single voice, a single hand. The Republic must _change_. _We_ must change. Evolve into something better. _Greater_. We will _grow_. We have become an empire in fact; we have become an Empire in name! We are the _first Galactic Empire_!"

The Senate roars, becoming wilder than before.

Bail leans back in his seat. "What are they doing? Don't they _understand_?"

Padmé shakes her head.

"We are an Empire that will be continued by this august body. We are an Empire that will never again return to corruption that has wounded us so deeply. We are an Empire that will be ruled by a single voice, _for life_!"

The Senate goes wilder, a thunderstorm in the Arena.

Palpatine's voice grew more giddy. "We are an Empire that will be ruled by majority! An Empire ruled by a new—and better—Constitution. An Empire of _laws_, not _people_. We will be devoted to the preservation of society. A just, secure society. We will stand for a thousand years. _Ten thousand_ years. We will celebrate this day, this anniversary. Henceforth, this day will be known as _Empire Day_. For the sake of our children, and our children's children, we will celebrate this day every year, for ten thousands of years. For safety! Security! Justice! _Peace_!"

The Senate goes berserk.

"Say it with me! Safety, security, justice, and peace! Safety, security, justice, and peace!"

The Arena takes up the chant, until it seems the whole galaxy is roaring it.

Padmé doesn't know why she came anymore. This is just…pathetic. Scary. Why does she want to see liberty die? "So this is how liberty dies. With _thunderous_ applause."

Bail suddenly jerks. "We can't let this happen! I have to—"

"No." She reaches up to him, forcing Bail to abeyance. "No, Bail." He looks straight in her eyes. She sees fear in those brown orbs. "You can't enter a motion. You_ can't_. Fang Zar has already been arrested, and Tundra Doweia, and it won't be long until the whole delegation are declared enemies of the state." Her other hand motions towards the center of the stage. "Technically, they already have. You stayed off that list for good reason; don't risk it by doing something _foolish_."

"I can't just sit by and _watch_—"

"No. You can't. You have to vote for him. Be a good little Senator, and stay _underground_ and let everything fall into place. There's no time now to do something."

He sits back down. "Padmé, what are you saying? How do you know they've been arrested?"

She leans close to his ear. "If you want to help, I will see you at my apartment in two hours. After all, a nice little trip to Alderaan will do you well, will it not?"

Bail nods, and she knows he understands. Padmé up and walks out, leaving him to decide. It's a risk to him and his wife and his planet, but Palpatine will know that Bail is crucial to important alliances, and he won't dare to risk letting planets go that would otherwise not be here.

In the background, the galaxy still roars.


	6. Relations

**_(revised chpt.)_**

_four weeks later_

Padmé is usually the second awake—Obi-Wan being the first.

She has found that she rather likes early mornings now. A guilty thought, almost, considering everything that's happening, and she isn't there to help. But before their sort of self-imposed exile, mornings were busy thoughts and getting ready and too quick goodbyes, not knowing if she'll see Anakin that night.

Mornings, now, are waking to find warmed tea and Obi-Wan making breakfast. Quietly, she'll join him, sipping tea at random intervals. They won't talk much—and that's fine by her. The quiet is better than all that chaos. The children will be up soon, along with Anakin and Siri.

Now, though, there's only warm tea. Obi-Wan is not cooking breakfast with a murmuring _good morning_. Ignoring the tea, she makes the rounds around the hovel, not spotting him. Slipping outside, she spots him kneeling, eyes closed. No doubt meditating, as Jedi often do. Padmé starts to leave, but Obi-Wan starts, calling her name out. She stops, and waits for him. Moments later, he's at her side.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." She almost talks, but his words are not for her. Not his dreams, or his troubles, or anything. She's a friend, of course. But she doesn't know him like Anakin and Siri do. Padmé doesn't have the right. That doesn't bother her; it never will. She'll distract him, instead.

"The children will be up, soon. And the tea is going cold, we'll need to warm up some water again."

Obi-Wan nods, a small grateful smile playing with his features. "Thank you."

"We're going to need a Jedi for this."

"Plenty of us, there are." Yoda knows specifically who the Senator wants. It's too risky, though. Sidious, looking for them, he is. "Need Skywalker and Kenobi, we do not."

Bail gestures in frustration. "Everyone single one of these Jedi are great—all fifty or so, of them. But Obi-Wan and Anakin—they're _good_ at _these_ kind of things. You know they are. How many times have you sent them on Do or Die missions for them to only succeed?" A pause. "Master Yoda. We _need_ them. You can't hide them forever."

Yoda hobbles around the comm unit, out of Bail's sight. "A moment, please."

Shaak Ti and Adi Gallia and Plo Koon—the last surviving Council members, notwithstanding Master Kenobi and himself—stare Yoda down. He already knows their votes.

"Master Yoda, Senator Organa has a point. Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker are made for this," Adi Gallia says. "Senator—Senator Amidala and Knight Tachi are more than capable of handling themselves and the younglings, should that be your concern."

Shaak Ti and Plo Koon nod their agreement. "If we send other Jedi, there is more risk to them being captured or killed. Master Kenobi and Skywalker are made for this," Shaak echoes Adi.

Not waiting to hear more, Yoda hobbles back in-screen. "Very well. Send them we will."

Organa inclines his head in thanks. "They will not let us down. They never have. I'll send a transport to their location right away." The comm blinks out.

Yoda bows his head. _Letting us down, my concern is not._


	7. Messages

**_(revised chpt.)_**

They get the message during dinner. The Tattoine suns are barely noticeable, and talk is of trivial things. Anakin tells a tale that a space pirate told him long ago. Anakin has always enjoyed reciting the tale, and now is no different. During the middle as Anakin is speaking—as the protagonist defeats the dragon—the holoprojector announces that someone is contacting them, beeping loudly. The world freezes. Everyone goes silent. Calmly, Obi-Wan walks out of the eating center to the living space where the holoprojector sits. The image of Shaak Ti appears.

"Yes?"

"Master Kenobi? This is Master Ti speaking. Can—Yoda needs to speak to you and Anakin."

Everyone has followed him out, and crowds around him. Bee'wu and Mara stand on his left, Ahsoka and Anakin—who's kneeling—on his right. Siri hovers over his left shoulder and Padmé stands slightly behind Obi-Wan's right. Yoda appears, glancing at everyone surrounded around the holo, looking surprised, but Yoda doesn't protest the gathering. Good. Hopefully, he understands that _everyone_ is going to hear what he has to say. After living in close quarters—and half of them being friends with _someone_ already—well, they've almost become like…family. At least, that's what Obi-Wan likes to call this odd little group, in his happier moments. "We are listening."

"Master Kenobi. An urgent matter has come up." There's a pause. "Five Jedi gone missing, they have, near the planet of Endor. Need you and young Skywalker to search for them, the Jedi and Rebel Alliance do."

Obi-Wan exchanges a look with Anakin. "You do realize that this could very well be a trap, do you not, Master?"

Anakin interjects. "Master, not to be insulting, but what's so important of the missing Jedi that you need us? Aren't there other Jedi you can send?" An almost odd statement coming from Anakin, but Obi-Wan knows that staying with his wife is more important than the thrill of a do or die mission.

Yoda looks full of shame with the way he looks off-screen. "Pointed that out to the other Jedi, I did. But insist the Council and Alliance leaders do, that you and Skywalker are best for this job. Outvoted, I have been." Turning his gaze to Anakin, he answers his question. "The five Jedi, carrying an important document of a monstrous weapon they are: a weapon Sidious intends to use in the future."

(No one bothers to question how they knew of such a weapon. It's just easier that way.)

Obi-Wan tightens his lips and jaw, and tries to rid himself of the steadily growing annoyance building within him. As much as he wants to deny it, he doesn't want to participate in a mission. Frankly, he's sick and tired of fighting and war. "What about Siri? Can't she and I rescue the Jedi and document?" She gives him a small smile.

"Insist—"

"What about transportation?" Padmé interrupts. "We have sold ours a month ago. There's no possible way that they can leave." No one bothers to mention the stash of cash they have that will more than pay for transport. Anakin, Siri, and Obi-Wan, have been working odd jobs for neighbors and store owners for the past month, saving up for any sort of occasion, except for one like this.

"Sent one, Senator Organa has."

He and Anakin both open their mouths to speak, but Siri cuts them off. "They'll be ready when the transport arrives."

Yoda looks relived. "Be there in twenty-eight standard hours, the transport will be."

Siri reaches over and shuts off the holoprojector without further ado. She's ready to admit defeat when Obi-Wan and Anakin aren't. (Sort of. Obi-Wan was _close_ to admitting that there's nowhere left to turn.)

There's silence. It dawns on Obi-Wan that they're waiting for him to speak. Force knows why.

"Anakin."

"Master."

"…Where was it that you left off?"

Anakin doesn't miss a beat. Nobody moves back to the eating room; they were all done eating, anyways. And besides, they enjoy the close proximity. Force knows when they'll see each other again.


	8. Kenobi and Skywalker

Obi-Wan's first thought, when he wakes, is that he's on Rattatak with that blasted mask on. He starts to panic, trying to claw off the mask, but finds that his hands are tied behind his back. His panic grows even more when he realizes that _he can't touch the Force—!_

"_Master_! Obi-Wan, it's alright! You're not on Rattatak. Ventress isn't going to hurt you." Someone—Anakin—speaks to him, soothing him, until Obi-Wan finally calms himself, understanding that he certainly is not in Ventress' grasp.

Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan leans against the wall, closing his eyes. "Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan murmurs. Force, he should be stronger that: Rattatak was almost two years ago.

"It was nothing, Master."

Obi-Wan takes another deep breath, aiming to center himself even without the use of the Force. It's mostly succeeding. Another deep breath, and Obi-Wan opens his eyes, looking through slit holes towards Anakin, who sits on his left. "Where are we? What…what happened?"

Anakin frowns at him. "You don't remember?"

A shrug. "Just that we arrived at Endor and—and we crashed. Or something." Truthfully, he doesn't think they crashed considering that crashes tend to hurt. _A lot_. And the only thing hurting him is the lack of the Force. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Anakin shakes his head. "No. No, I'm not hurt, and we didn't crash. An Imperial armada showed up just moments after we dropped out of hyperspace. They locked a tractor beam on us, and when the ship arrived on board, they knocked us out from behind with stun shots. You were the first to get hit."

Of course. But _why_ doesn't he remember this? "How long have—"

"It's been three days. You've been knocked out the whole time." Anakin almost smiles. "Obviously."

"Obviously."

Silence draws out, and Anakin turns his gaze away from Obi-Wan. He frowns at the young man. "What's wrong?"

Anakin suddenly glares at him. "Nothing."

"Anakin—"

But he's cut off when someone enters the cell. Obi-Wan doesn't look right away to see who it is—thinking that it's a droid or some clone with a meager dose of food. But Anakin doesn't look like that when it's just lackeys of the main instigator.

"Master Kenobi, have you finally woken up?" Sidious stares him down, a leer on his face.

"Apparently." He should not incite the Emperor's fury, but Obi-Wan sees no reason to act courteously to the man who slaughtered the Jedi—_his family—_ and extirpated the Republic.

"Do you like the mask? A very simple design—only cuts one off from the Force. Nothing near as enthralling as what the Dark Acolyte had you wear, but mind you, I come prepared."

_Behave, and you won't suffer more than necessary._ Fine. Obi-Wan can't fathom _why_ Sidious doesn't want to have him suffer more, but Obi-Wan won't complain. Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" Obi-Wan turns his gaze to Anakin, who has finally spoken, sounding tired and annoyed simultaneously.

Sidious just smiles.


	9. Certain Point of View

**_to get to the point: i've revised all chapters that were previously up. (1-7). if you saw the temporary author note (now gone), you know that i revised those things for errors and plot purposes. _**

**_yes, you should read those. especially the introduction. because you'll have to, if you want to know what in the world is going on. my apologies for the inconveince. _**

**_of course, there will still be backstories, but i'm hoping to have them be...less confusing. questions?_**

_four weeks prior_

Aayla and Barriss find a ship with ease—it's the escape that's the hard part. They're not pilots. They've been trained, of course: all Jedi are trained in the arts of flying a ship. But they have both rarely needed to pilot themselves anywhere. Not to mention that the clones are shooting their canons at them, forcing them to evade the laser bolts.

Aayla plots a course to Kliu, planning three more jumps once they exit hyperspace incase the clones pursue them.

Finally—_Finally_—they exit their last jump somewhere between Azure and Velmor. Aayla—sitting—leans into the pilot's seat while Barriss—standing—puts her weight onto the back of the the pilot's seat. They calm themselves using the Force. Suddenly, Barriss stirs.

"I'll get the bacta. For your wound. Don't move—you've already stressed it enough."

Aayla follows her instructions, closing her eyes. Hardly a minute passes when Barriss returns with a med kit. She wastes no time pulling out a bacta patch, and applying some antibiotic cream beforehand. Aayla watches her careful ministrations, noticing every detail her hands make, acknowledging every time the Mirialin girl brushes her skin. Aayla quickly glances away: she shouldn't be noticing these things; they're unbecoming for a Jedi.

Barriss glances at her. "Do you want me to lead you in a healing trance?"

Aayla blinks. "No. I'll be fine. Thank you."

She nods. "Fine. But you need to rest. I saw a bunk in the back." Aayla opens her mouth to protest, but Barriss cuts her off. "I'll take care of finding…survivors, or at least a place to hide." A small smile. "Go."

She just nods, and exits without complaint.


	10. Confessions and Misgivings

_**my apologies for the year long wait. no promises as to when the next chapter shall appear, but my goal is by february.**_

The second day after Obi-Wan wakes, the mask is gone. Obi-Wan tells Anakin that it is because Sidious wants to see Obi-Wan's face as he strips him of any lies Obi-Wan has been told. He snarls while saying that, more outwardly than in; Anakin doesn't blame him: even just thinking about Sidious—the bastard—ignites his fury; when Anakin sees Obi-Wan's face after the fourth day, his fury is fueled. Especially when Obi-Wan doesn't protest as Anakin helps him into a sitting position against the back wall of their dank and dark and rotten cell. Obi-Wan _always_ protests any help Anakin has to offer.

Anakin has never seen Obi-Wan break—not even after Rattatak, not even after the Jedi massacre and the assassination of those four younglings. But the way he leans his head into his hands—so exhausted and just looking ready to give up—it's unnerving.

"…Obi-Wan…Master?"

"Anakin." He still doesn't look up. The tremors in the Force and in his shoulders suggest he may be crying, but Anakin's not too sure: Obi-Wan's voice is calm and steady, no different than it's ever been. And besides, he _never _cries.

Anakin settles himself next to Obi-Wan, but doesn't touch him: he's not sure if such an act would be appreciated or not. "Obi-Wan, c'mon, talk to me. What happened? What's wrong?"

Apparently, talking isn't appreciated either. "Nothing to worry your precious head about," Obi-Wan snarks, lifting his head just enough to glare at him, but cruelly this time; he's said this before, but only in a teasing, banter sort of manner, saved for the salles, and said mostly after Obi-Wan arrived slightly late to their pre-arranged duels. "Just—" Obi-Wan breaks himself off.

"Just what?" Silence. Anakin frowns. "Obi-Wan, I can't help you if you won't talk to me." He nudges his friend—his brother and his master—gently, affectionately. "C'mon, what did Sidious tell you?"

Haltingly, he starts to speak. "Anakin…have you ever—on Tatooine. Tell me. What happened on Tatooine, with your mother?" He slips his hands from his face to his knees.

"I—she died in my arms. She—I went to look for her, and she was there, in some Tusken Camp. I—I tried to save her, but she—she—died. I took her back to the homestead and buried her." Anakin closes his eyes. Obi-Wan knows the real story—he has to, now. Sidious definitely knows—Anakin had told Palpatine once, after all, shortly after the beginning of the Clone Wars.

Obi-Wan doesn't say anything. He's waiting for Anakin to either confirm or deny the murder of the Tuskens. Anakin almost chooses denial, but when he speaks, he just confirms what Obi-Wan already suspects; not best to delay it any longer.

He blinks at Anakin. His hands tighten their grip on his knees. But he does not coil, he does not almost-break again: Anakin has cleared Obi-Wan's mind of confusion and other emotions. "_Anakin…_."

Anakin stomps down on his emotions because right now, Obi-Wan doesn't need more anger, but he will defend himself. "They killed my mother, and I also wasn't thinking straight."

"Apparently not," Obi-Wan snarks, and looks ready to say more, but Anakin has had enough of his mood.

"Look, _Master_, I understand why you're angry, but Sidious is trying to push you away from me." Obi-Wan looks away; Anakin moves even closer, hovering, but not touching. "Obi-Wan, you know this. Don't let him get to you. Do you remember what you used to tell me when I was younger?"

A ghost of a smile flickers on Obi-Wan's face. "Unless it is constructive or I tell you otherwise, do not believe what your peers tell you."

Anakin smiles encouragingly. "Exactly. Sidious isn't offering anything constructive, and _I'm_ telling _you_ not to believe what he says. You hear?"

"Yes. But, Anakin, he gets in my head, and I can't—I can't—"

Watching Obi-Wan's face twist in torment rents Anakin's heart apart. Disregarding Obi-Wan's need for personal space, Anakin gathers him in his arms, offering comfort in a place where there is none. "I know, I know. Hey, hey... I know. Hush, it will get better soon. Hey..." He keeps murmuring nonsense as Obi-Wan shudders against him, keening and choking, but not letting any water flow. Obi-Wan is too far past tears—has always been.

(He didn't cry at Qui-Gon's funeral, Anakin remembers. Nor when two hundred Jedi were massacred at Geonosis, or thousands more during the war. He wonders what would have to happen for Obi-Wan to cry. He wonders, but deep in his heart, Anakin does not want to know.)


End file.
